T>9 &*>5 

SIMON SOLUS; 




OR, 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE 'DALE: 1 



A FARCE IN ONE ACT. 



BY CHARLES CLEWEARING, P. S. V. S. N. 



NEW YORK: 
1843, 






6^.6 



*v 



» 1/ 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
Simon Solus, Mrs. Jonathan Magnolia, 

Mr. Magnolia, Miss Angelina Cleopatra 

Ned Clewline, Magnolia, 

Tom Cutwater, Betty. 

Jurist 
: 9 



TMP92-008858 



REMARKS. 

The sloop-of-war "Dale" was built in Philadelphia, in 
1839, when she sailed to Norfolk. In December of 1840, 
she left Hampton Rhodes in company with the U. S. ship 
Yorktown, on a cruize to the Pacific. On the outward 
passage she proved to be a much faster sailing ship than 
her consort. While round the Horn in '41-2 and 3, she 
beat all the vessels she fell in with, except the frigate 
United States. Neither the ship Constitution, nor the 
sloops Cyane or Yorktown, held their own in company 
with her, and even the "Old Wagon" had to crack on to 
get a circumstance ahead of the leetle Dale, either before 
or on a wind, in light breezes or a snorting gale. 

In 1840, while at anchor in Callao, the ship's company 
were much entertained with the few plays they visited, 
enacted on board the frigate "Constitution," and for a 
long time after we were desirous to get up something 
that way on board our ship, as we did not mean the leetle 
Dale should be walked a head of by any thing, in any 
thing, in any place, in playing, sailing, or fighting. 

In April 1843, while our ship was at Guaymaz, (in the 
Gulf of California,) the first attempt was made, and with 
success. At that place a second and third repetition took 
place, and at Mazatlan our play on board did sweeten high — 
particularly visitants from the British ship-of-war "Cham- 
pion," the only large vessel then there. 

On the 22d July, four days after arrival in Valparaiso, 
(after a passage of only forty-seven days from Mazatlan,) 
the comedy of "The Drummer" was played with great 
spirit by our Thespean Company, when the evening's en- 



4 REMARKS* 

tertainment concluded with the farce before us — "Just 
paid off from the Dale," which in its (then first) presen- 
tation received from all on board and numerous visiters, 
reiterated applause. 

The next evening's entertainment was to have been 
made up of the three following farces: — "The Party 
"Wall" — "Catching an Heiress" — and "Tom Rusticus; or, 
The Recruit," a new piece written on board; but on ac- 
count of the ship's quick return home, the same had to be, 
and therefore was, postponed, till the next cruize of the 
sleek-leetle, fast-sailing, hard-fighting, sloop-of-war 'Dale/ 



PROLOGUE. 

As most books have a preface of some kind, 

And pro or epilogues to most plays we find, 

It may not be uncall'd for here to state, 

Before we're thro,' for then 'twould seem too late, 

That this piece was not writ to draw forth sighs, 

And start the tear from all assembled eyes; 

Nor to depict with graphic face the swell 

Of heated passion raging with fires of hell — 

The which well done— would but all breasts inspire, 

And kindle in your bosoms the warm fire 

Of sympathetic rage — or fiercer thought 

Of vengeance dire — to which the while you're wrought. 

This farce was writ like nearly all such others, 

As farces are in some respect like brothers, 

To make some fun — and for an hour to please, 

Or some dull play — or tragedy to ease, 

And make a night pass off with life and zest, 

This then if 't raise the laugh may be the test. 

If but in this our piece to-night succeed, 

We beg you all in this to be agreed 

That a main point was look'd to after all, 

If you all laugh before the curtains fall; 

But whether at the scenes, the playing or the plot, 

Is so essential as to — matter not; 

Laugh if you cannot help it, for the author's sake — 

You know his queer sensations should the piece take 



SCENE I.— A Room. 

MRS. MAGNOLIA. (Solus.) 'Tis too bad. I wont 
abide it any longer. My easy-going, good-natured, good- 
sort of a good-for-nothing kind of husband must forsooth 
take into my house an unknown straggler, because he 
was recommended by a person of respectability— an old 
respectable acquaintance— a respected officer in the Navy. 
So, forsooth, this respected Mr. Lightsail has recommend- 
ed Simon Solus— ergo, Simon Solus must have the privi- 
lege of boarding in my house, without the leave and 
license of Mrs. Magnolia having once been asked. But 
I'll put a stop to these kind of proceedings, I will. No 
Mr. Anybody— no Mr. Simon Solus, nor no Mr. Jeremiah 
Jonathan Jominidab Solus, shall be received into my 
house again before my good will and assent;— the good 
will and assent of Mrs. Magnolia be first sought and ob- 
tained, or as lawyer Squareall would say, procurandum 
est. Mr. Magnolia, I say— you Mr. Jonathan Magno- 
lia, come hither, I say, you dear, sweet man. 

(ENTER MR. MAGNOLIA.) 

MR. MAGNOLIA. Well, my dear, here I am— here 
I be, sweetheart. What's wanting now, eh? Any thing 
happened, any thing wrong now, eh? Tell me, love. 

MRS. M. Any thing happened! Any thing wrong, 
forsooth! Pretty questions upon my word. Pray, Mr. 
Magnolia, ought you not to have consulted your better 
half—your lawful wife — the partner of your sorrows, the 
coadjutor of all your enterprises, before you received this 
Mr. Simon Solus to board in my house — never do you 
dare to take another boarder without first consulting Mrs. 
Magnolia on the subject. Never do you receive another 
boarder into my domicile until the good will— the assent 
of your loving spouse be procurandum est, on the penalty 
of being deprived of your dear wife's caresses — of having 
cold dinners for a whole week — of having to sleep alone 
by yourself for a whole fortnight; bear that in your mem- 
ory, my dear coadjutor. 

MR. M. (Aside.) Heaven grant it. Well now, my 



6 simon solus; or, 

love, — but he was recommended by Mr. Lightsail, and he 
you know is a very respectable naval officer. 

MRS. M. A respectable naval officer! indeed. I 
would not care if he had been recommended by a re- 
spectable naval governor, a respectable naval diplomatic 
functionary — a naval Afghanistan plenipotentiary. Mind 
you this, Mr. Magnolia, mind you this; if any thing goes 
wrong you have yourself alone to blame. Don't you say 
I, Mrs. Magnolia, your help-mate, took a stranger into 
the house with nothing but his homely face — his homely 
person — his homely habiliments to speak for him: and 
mind you this, Mr. Magnolia, if he enveigles my daugh- 
ter, if he enveigles my daughter, Mr. Magnolia, I'll be 
the plague of your life, I will — I'll be the plauge of your 
life, I will. (Exit ) 

MR. M. Will be the plague of my life, indeed! I 
wonder what else she can think she has been for the past 
three and forty years — the plague of my life! Oh! the 
day I ever united with her in the bands of wedlock; that 
she ever was made my coadjutor, as she styles herself. 
However, three and forty years have been got through; a 
few more annual circles, and she and I — 

(ENTER BETTY.) 

BETTY. What shall I do, dear, dear, what shall I do! 

MR. M. Pray, what has happened now, Betty? — tell 
me, girl — speak out. 

BETTY. O dear, O dear, I'm so unlucky— Mrs. Mag- 
nolia will never get over it — never. 

MR. M. In the name of wonder, what has befallen 
her? — is my dear wife killed or in a fit, or broken a limb? 
— what has happened her? — speak out. 

BETTY. She'll never get over it, never — dear me, I 
have broken one of the cut glass decanters — she will ne- 
ver forgive me — dear, oh dear. 

MR. M. Oh, is that all that has happened! Why, 
Betty, I was afraid something serious had occurred — 
don't grieve, Betty — it can't be helped you know — here, 
here is a half eagle, Betty — run and buy a new one, and 
she will not know the difference. Off with you, Betty, 
off, off; I say, off with you, you jade. 

BETTY. O, sir, if Missis is too extensively obstropol- 
ous, you are too extensively kind — indeed you are, Master, 
indeed you are, too extensively kind, you are. (Exit.) 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 7 

MR. M. The dear girl — it really does me good to ex- 
tricate her from her troubles — to see her twinkling eyes 
big with thankfulness and satisfaction — to see her lost for 
words to vent her gratitude — but here comes my 

(ENTER ANGELINA.) 

Angelina. Well, my angel, what now daughter? 

ANGELINA. I thought I'd just come and tell you 
that Mr. Solus wants me very much to ride out with him 
in the cars to Harlem. Mayn't I go, Pa? Yes, I know 
you wont refuse. Come, give me a kiss, Pa; (kisses.) I 
am so glad you have consented — we wont be long away — 
shan't I mix you a nice mint julap, Pa? 

MR. M. Dear daughter, I don't hardly know — 

ANG. Whether I shall enjoy it. Oh, I am sure I 
shall, Pa. Mr. Simon is so good natured a man, I can't 
help being happy with him. 

MR. M. But, Angelina— 

ANG. I am in haste, Pa; I will run and get ready. 
Come, one more kiss — (kisses) — I wont be long, Pa. 

MR. M. Oh, the dear, dutiful, affectionate child. 

(Exit.) 
I can't refuse her any thing. I declare I cannot. But I 
did not tell her she might go; though I really had not the 
heart to deny her. What now will my better half — my 
fond, caressing, affectionate, loving wife say? Dear, oh 
dear, I really am quite straightened. I must go and take 
a stiffner of old Jamaica to fortify these agitated nerves of 
mine, I must. (Exit.) 



SCENE II.— A Street. 

SIMON SOLUS. (Solus.) Darn my buttons, here I 
am I reckon, all correct I guess, clear of a man of war to 
all etarnity. They don't cketch Simon Solus on the 
ground hap agin so long as a livin' is to be got ashore, 
which I calculate is likely to be for some considerable 
time a head. By golly, but I'd like to meet some of my 
old shipmates — nicer fellers, stouter hearts, freer souls, 
than some of my chummies just paid off from the sleek- 
leetle, fast-sailing, hard-fightin' sloop-of-war "Dale," — 



8 SIMON solus; or, 

arn't to be come across no whars, in no craft of no size. 
I don't car whar she comes from, nor whar she war 
launched; and if she war only going to make another 
cruize somewhar, not very far from hum, for say some 
war about two years, and I could calculate on coaxing 
some of my chickens to go 'long, I don't know arter all, 
but as how I'd ship once't more, tho' I did say as how 1 
kinder thought as how I would'nt. The temptation 
would be mighty strong, 'cause when a feller's in as 
sleek a little craft as ever whar, that can't be beat by 
nothin' in the sailin' nor the fightin' line, and chummies 
aboard with hearts as big or bigger than he has himself, 
he arn't, I swar to man, so mighty bad off as that he 
moutn't be a kinder worser. But now I's off for Harlem. 
It's coming on time for them ar cars to start, and Ange- 
lina, I rec'on, is all dresst a waitin' for me to stop in and 
walk her strait off to take a ride by steam. It'll be mon- 
strous nice; a deuced site better than sailin' on salt wa- 
ter. Darn my buttons if I don't make love till her — she's 
a nation perty gall; talks a leetle saucy, but that arn't 
northing. She's right good natured, that's what I looks 
most at. But how's my pockets. I has, I guess, about 
twenty dollars in small change, besides two one hundred 
dollar bills as 1 left with the landlord. I rec'on as how I 
don't break them ar just yet. When them are spent, I'll 
be just where I was once't afore — hard up and way from 
hum. But if I don't be off them ar Harlem cars will — 
eh. By zookers, who's this? 

(ENTER NED CLEWLINE.) 

Ned Clewline, I swan to man. 

NED CLEW. Simon, give us your flipper; glad to see 
you. Where do you stow yourself? — got a snug boarding 
house, I suppose? You knew dam well how to look after 
manavelins aboard ship, and shiver my hull if I don't be- 
lieve you're the best off of any of us in that way ashore. 
Show us your lodgings, Simon. I've got into a cursed 
poor establishment myself, and mean to shift right off 
the reel. 

SIMON. I rec'on as how I has got into a snug shop, 
sartin. But, Ned, darn'd if I can stand to talk now. I'm 
going right straight out to Harlem with a tarnation perty 
gall. 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 9 

in w£ a WIth a ™? retty girl! Ah > y° u ' re the boy always 
in luck's way Wont you give us a chance to havealt 

vL Tv 1 at .? e V N °' no ' Simon ' I w ™t be hard on 
S'«w , 6 '"I 1 ' lea , Ve your wake ' and m ^ke tracks after 
th ls sweet perty gall, as you call her-but let's know how 

SandvWpffV again - Me * US at the Park Theatre oT 

5^K to'^r 6 other place of worshi ^ wh -- 

on^hT; , Wel] 1 l I reC u'° n as how the best P ] ace I knows 
on is here close by_the Cornu Copias. They has the 

a m? te of iSTo" ^ * T^™' Let ' S ste P in ^ ^ 
a mite ot liquor. If you don't say as how they has the 

cidt S a;'dl d „^ m V and , brandy ' a " d Wine ' and b-i ^ and 
Kilt' and Sll "f ' and t0ddies ' and co «k- 
So us hasn't t£ gl ? y .° U lea J e t0 say as now > Sim on 
the s eek ItlP ?T ^ a \ he had when he ^ in 

(ENTER BETTY.) 

I d^WW Lack - a - da i § y me; dear, oh dear, what shall 
1 do? What a poor, unfortunate, unlucky girl I am— this 
morning to break a cut glass decanter-last nightTcrack" 

wlf ririKJ P h a v r H r l0 ° king glaSS ' and Missis ^ught her. 
sell righted by boxing my ears prettily for it. Only last 

week one of the table spoons was missing, and she tried 

to make Master deduct it from my wages-and now dear 

Sone 63 !'! h tt l0St t a ha, f M S J - Ia » ruined "'mu n : 

orTpt ,? ge 4 an ° ther Maste r-nnd another place 

-or get married. But who will marry a poor unfortu. 

nate girl, with nothing but her face, and* her hands and 

fcjStsa??- one bare haif eagie - ^ 

(ENTER TOM CUTWATER, WITH A BOTTLE AND 
PRETENDING DRUNK.) 

TOM What's the matter, child? What are you pout- 
ing about, my dolphin? Has' any one hurt you! de£S£ 
cS thaw S °' darhr V nd let me once see Idght of the 
hpSti ev . er - dar « ^use a sweet pretty-faced, tender- 

ms hut/ 3 r V w DS v daUgh , te u r ° f Eve ' and ' f I don,t sh *£ 
nl; n T §hte ^r of his ? ards and spare spars, my 
names not Tom Cutwater. Just come under my lee. 



10 SIMON solus; or, 

chicken. Slip one of your booms into my quarter irons, 
and you shall weather-storm gale and tempest. I'm taut 
and tight, tho' may be haff seas over — but in less than a 
pipe belay, I'll be in smooth sailing trim. So here's a 
fair salutation, a one long-gun compliment on your pretty 
battery — (kissing her.) 

BETTY. Let me alone, will you — let me go — you 
good-for-nothing, vile, outrageous piece of impertinence. 
Let me alone, I tell you. O, lack-a-daisy me. 

TOM. Well, well; but just answer my signals and re- 
turn my salutes, — then, chicken, we can sail smoothly on 
our courses with studding sails low and aloft. May be 
you are short of spirits; if so, 1 have a supply; so fill up 
your hold, my trim little brig 

BETTY. Just keep your bottle to yourself — leave me 
alone, I tell you, or I shall certainly pull that ugly nose 
for you, I will. 

TOM. A fine spirited barque, this; the devil roast me 
if I havn't a great mind to hawl my wind and sail in com- 
pany. I say, chicken, what port do you make? Where 
are you bound: What's your reckoning? Let's examine 
our bearings, and see if we can't make for the same har- 
bor. One more salute, chicken — (kisses.) 

BETTY. Get along, you obstreperous rascallian rape. 
Murder, fire, robbery, help! 

TOM. Breakers by Jupiter! All hands to muster! 
Stop! blay that — (pipes.) All hands save ship! 

(ENTER NED CLEWLINE.) 

NED. What the devil's to pay. A pretty gall crying 
for help, and Ned Clewline at hand. Dam me if here 
aint a chance to do a good turn for a craft in distress. 
How can I relieve you, my pretty sparkler? 

BETTY. Do drive this good-for-nothing, abusive, in- 
sulting vagabond away. Do, good, kind, sir — do, I pray 
you. 

NED. Hello! dam my tarry top lights, if 'tant Tom 
Cutwater, ust 'twixt and between — half so — half how 
come you so. Tom, why the devil don't you leave the 
girl alone? Don't be trowselling every pretty craft you 
meet, or you'll dam'd soon fetch up with a round turn, 
and have to hand over your papers and surrender your 
prizes. I say, Tom, where the devil have you moored 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 11 

your hulk the three days past, since we were paid off from 
the sloop-of-war "Dale?" 

TOM. Give us time to ram home a charge before we 
let fly a round in reply. We've hardly made you out yet, 
and you have poured in on us a volley of grape and canis- 
ter. But now I'm about primed — let me discharge con- 
tents, and we'll feel in lighter trim. Come along to the 
Sign of the Anchor, and we'll overhawl our log for the 
past three days, since I was paid off from the trim little 
saucy ship "Dale." Come along, Ned — come along — 
come along. (Exit.) 

NED. The Sign of the Anchor, eh? You'll have to 
round to before you make it, I guess; but I'll be with you 
in half a shake. Well, my darling, what's the trouble? 
None of your timbers sprung, I hope? I bore up to your 
signals of distress, and if Ned Clewline can carry you off 
a lee shore, or put any shot in your locker, 'twill do him 
as much pleasure as it will you good. 

BETTY. Dear, kind, sir, I'm a very unlucky, unfor- 
tunate girl. I was looking for a half eagle I lost of my 
Master's, when that ugly, good-for-nothing, abusive, in- 
sulting fellow came along and behaved so shamefully bad, 
that I became frightened and called out for help. 

NED. He wouldn't have hurt you, dear. He's a lit- 
tle in the wind, child. He'd have given you a half eagle 
or a half doubloon in a minute, if he had thought you'd 
have taken it. I never had a better-hearted, freer-soul'd 
fellow, than that same Tom Cutwater, for a ship mate. 
But don't trouble your sweet soul, darling — I'm the lucky 
chap that's found your half eagle, child; (whew that's a 
sneezer, as Simon Solus used to say;) I'm the boy can see 
gold glitter in Avater a fathom deep, or mud a foot thick. 
Here you be, darling; here's your half eagle, (putting it 
in her hand,) hold on it taut — (kissing her.) Now scud 
home fast as you like. 

BETTY. Dear, good, sir, how can I thank you! Hea- 
ven bless your wife and children extensively. Good bye, 
kind sir. Heaven bless you extensively. (Exit.) 

NED. Curse on it, why don't I see her home — she's a 
sweet soul'd creature, and if I warn't so confounded back- 
ward, I'd know all about her in a week, and may be get 
spliced in less than a fortnight. I did her a good turn, 
however, and feel the happier for it; extensively so, as 



12 simon solus; or, 

she would say. She believes I found her money, so it's 
all the same to Ned Clewline. I'd make the next pretty 
girl I meet believe the same thing, if I only thought it 
would do her as much good. But what the devil's gone 
with Tom. He was a little in the wind; indeed, some- 
what extensively so, I might say; and may be taken all 
aback before he brings to at the Sign of the Anchor. I'll 
after him, and if he needs a ship mate to lend him a hand 
and keep land sharks out of his pockets, dam me if Ned 
Clewline an't the very chap. (Exit.) 



SCENE III.— A Room. 

MR. MAGNOLIA. (Solus.) Well-a-day, well-a-day; 
here have I and my old woman been keeping open house 
since the day we were married, and never has the place 
been so dull as it is at this present time. We have only 
one boarder, Mr. Simon Solus. He was paid off from the 
ship Dale with nearly three hundred dollars, and seems a 
likely careful kind of a person. Angelina has taken quite 
a fancy to him. She seems determined to accompany him 
in and out to Harlem. I cannot think it will do my daugh- 
ter harm; but 1 am afraid his insinuating ways will whee- 
dle her out of her heart, and ensure her affections. I 
must not let her too susceptible soul be taken possession 
of before I know something more of her captivator. Eh! 
bless me, here she comes. How nice and 

(ENTER ANGELINA.) 

fresh you look, my darling, my angel; all ready, all ready 
for the excursion, my dear. 

ANG. Yes, Pa, and why can't you go with us? You 
know I don't half like to go any where without you. 

MR. M. Not with a lively, hot young fellow — don't 
bely thyself, dear. Thou wouldst not have thy old father 
at thy elbow, when a lively young dog would be talking 
nonsense, and whispering his ardent vows in your ear; 
tickling your fancy with ideas of future constancy and 
bliss. I was a little wild in my youth myself, and in 
those days I well remember how fond I was of walking 
out, and riding out, and sailing out with some fine, frisky, 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 13 

buxsoine wench, if only half as pretty as my angel, my 
ducklin here — (chuckling her under the chin.) 

ANG Oh! Pa, you make me blush. I am quite 
ashamed of you, to talk at this rate. I've a great mind 
to stay at home all day, and tell Mr. Solus I am indis- 
posed — or that I've altered my mind — or that company 
is coming — or that you will not suffer me to — or, or — or 
that— 

MR. M. That wont do, you jade — it wont do. You 
are just as hot to go as he is to have you; so don't try and 
put on one of your dry, sober faces. No, no, darling, you 
must go and I and the old woman will stay behind to take 
care of the house. Eh! I declare, here comes Mr. Solus 
all alone. 

(enter SIMON.) 

Here you are, Mr. Simon; glad to see you again, sir; wel- 
come once more. 

SIMON. Well, now, I rec'on, Miss Angelina, as how 
you calculated I warn't coming; but I guess as how there's 
plenty of time yet. The cars will start for Harlem in 
about twenty minutes, and I imagine we can be aboard 
sleek enough in less than half that are, arter we leave the 
house. I've just been with one of my ship mates; a right 
nice chap. He war a chicken of mine aboard, and I 
couldn't help asking him into the Cornu Copise to taste 
a mite of some genuine good liquor, and I rec'on as how 
I had some of the most scrumptious cider as ever sweet- 
ened my mouth, and I've tasted considerable of that are 
in my time, particular when I war on old Uncle Josh's 
farm. Uncle Josh war great in the cider line. He made 
the best cider ile ever tasted on — besides being a head on 
'em all in raisin' cattle, fatnin' pigs, growing punkins and 
such like — and his old woman, Aunt Abbey Jane, had a 
great name in market for fresh eggs, and new cheese, and 
apple butter, and all that are. Angelina, wouldn't you 
kinder like now for me just to run and get us a couple on 
them ar bottles of cider to have with us in the cars. If 
the steam, and the smoke, and the jostlin' of them ar tar- 
nal machines makes us feel a leetle dry, we'll have a 
fortification agin it — a battery 'gin the enemy as we men- 
of-wars-men say. 

ANG. No, no, Mr Simon, every body would be 
laughing at us the whole way; besides, if you are dry, 



14 \ simon solus; or, 

Pa will just step into the cellar and bring some madeira, 
or some sherry, or claret, or cider, or what perhaps you 
would prefer after your long cruize at sea, some foreign 
porter; or what is much better still, some of my sweet 
mamma's home-brewed beer, the most refreshing bever- 
age in the world. Why, Pa, didn't you hear Mr. Simon 
intimate he was thirsty? I am quite surprised at you. 
You ought really to go to school again and quicken those 
auricular organs of yours, you ought. But I'll run myself; 
you are waxing old, Pa; you are getting old. I am too 
hard on you, an't I, Pa? 

MR. M. No, no, child, you mustn't go. It can't be 
my angel — it mustn't be — no, no. Mr. Simon, you see 
what a jade she is — she'll torment you the whole time of 
your out to Harlem — tho' she is not bad at bottom, Simon 
— she is not bad at bottom. Many a girl has a worse 
heart, I can tell you that, Mr Simon. Let me narrate 
you a little anecdote of her, that occurred in this very 
room, on her last birth day. 

ANG. Don't, Pa, I beseech you. Are you not really 
too bad. If you tell that foolish thing over again, I wont 
stir out of the house to-day — I wont ride out to Harlem — 
I wont dance, nor sing, nor play for you the whole of the 
next two days, I wont. Why in the name of the poets, 
the muses, and all the celestials, don't you go and bring 
something from the cellar, for Mr. Simon to quench his 
thirst with? Poor fellow! he is really so parched, that he 
has not lisped forth one single word since he was inter- 
rupted in the midst of the most interestingly enlightening 
strain of conversation. But I will run to the cellar and 
get something myself — you are waxing old, you are get- 
ting old, Pa. 

SIMON. And, darn'd if I mustn't go 'long. I'm a 
right scrumptious hand at drawing off' liquors. In parti- 
cular, I'm nation smart at tappin' off' cider. I onc't made 
an invention in the spicket line, which Uncle Josh said 
would be the makin' on his fortin. It saved him a tar- 
nal site. One on them ar spickets as I made out of my 
head, would make a right smart chance of a barrel run 
something short on a one hundred and fifty gallons, be- 
sides he always rec'oned as that ar cider as come from 
one on them are barrels as had one on my new invention 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 15 

spickets in, was half as nice agin as any other, and had a 
leetle mite the flavor of whiskey. Angelina, let me go 
'long, and I'll show you how to draw off". When we're 
in the cellar, I can teach you two or three things at the 
least calculation, I imagine. 

MR. M. No, no, Mr. Simon; don't go to so much 
trouble — stay where you are, Mr. Simon, stay where you 
are. Let me go, daughter; I'll go, my dear; I shall not 
keep you long waiting. But the little anecdote that I 
was going to relate to you of her that occurred in this 
very room on her last birth day — 

ANG. Pshaw! Pa, why don't you tell Mr. Simon that 
your cellar is dry; that the beer barrels have all leaked; 
that the wine casks are expended; the brandy bottles are 
all broke; that the cider is all sour; that you would make 
him a mint julap, only that the mint has not been brought 
from market; that he shall try a little lemonade, if he will 
but have the patience to wait till Betty brings the sugar 
or the lemons from the grocery. Pshaw! Pa, I am asham- 
ed of you — but you are w r axing old, you are getting old, 
Pa. 

MR. M. Dear daughter, I am gone. Mr. Simon, I'll 
be back in a twinkling. Dear! oh dear' (Exit.) 

ANG. Mr. Simon, you were interrupted a while since 
when you were narrating a narrow escape you had of be- 
ing lost somewhere off the coast of California. 

SIMON. I rec'on as how it war in the Gulf; howsom- 
ever, as I war a tellin' on you, I had been lendin' a hand 
to reef the bow sprit shrowds, and furl the mizzen jib- 
boom try-sails and spanker geer — a tarnation ugly job. 
But that part, I imagine, you don't very well understand; 
howsomever, the weather had been nice and fine — the 
Sunday afore when the articles on fightin' were bein' 
read, a heap of fish were flying about the ship a listen- 
ing, and the day afore that a shark of tarnation size had 
been caught with a monstrous small hook. Well, as I 
war a sayin', we were a sailin' along with a nice leetle 
stiff breeze, — the leetle Dale not going more than eight 
or ten nots faster than any other sloop-of-war mout, — 
when all at onc't, while we were at dinner, a most migh- 
ty, tremendous, wopping, fierce, thundering, smashing 
breeze came on us, and we didn't know but that we were 



16 simon solus; or, 

going right strait to the bottom of the sea — I should say 
of the Gulf. Well, by golly, if it didn't clear off right 
then. The hurricane blow'd over, the wind died away, 
and not one single soul out of all on us perished, though 
we were mighty nigh being entirely exflunctificated. The 
foretop gallant mast went by the board and was wreck'd, 
which were 'mazin' fortunate, as that were all I calculate 
as saved our ship. 

ANG. What a narrow escape you had, to be sure. I 
wonder how you ever come to your senses again. Didn't 
some of you go out of your heads for some months subse- 
quent? 

(ENTER MR. MAGNOLIA.) 

Ah! here comes Pa, with something for you to wet your 
lips with. You must be very dry, Mr. Simon. Well, Pa — • 

MR. M. Mr. Simon, I have brought you some of the 
best madeira ever concocted from the grape. 

ANG. But nothing for me, Pa? I am really more 
and more ashamed of you every day. You are so very 
forgetful; but you are waxing old, you are getting old, Pa. 

MR. M. Dear daughter, do let me run and get you 
something, do. 

SIMON. No, Mr. Magnolia; I guess as how it's time 
we make a start for Harlem. Come, Miss Angelina, I 
calculate a leetle of this ere madeira will do you a site of 
good. Let me coax you just to try a mite on't. Here is 
more than I shall drink, and it will taste just as sweet 
agin arter you have sipped a leetle out of the same tum- 
bler. (Hands it to her.) 

ANG. As you please, Mr. Simon. Now, mind you 
this, Pa; the next time you are forthcoming with your 
wine, make Betty bring in glasses on a tray, and bring 
out not only one sort of liquor, but all the various kinds, 
and qualities, and brands you have. You are not wont to 
be so forgetful — but you are waxing old, you are getting 
old, Pa. 

MR. M. Yes, my angel, yes; yes, daughter, I am wax- 
ing old, I am getting old. 

SIMON. Come along, Miss Angelina, we mustn't wait 
a mite longer, or I feel pretty sartin them are cars will be 
on the jump; and tho' 1 used to be a pretty smart chance 
of a feller at a foot race, I'd hardly lay a nine pence on 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 17 

catchin' up with a critter of a horse, as could wing it 
over the track with one on them ar tarnal seventeen 
hundred horse-power fire engine machines. Come along 
Miss Angelina, I guess as how we'll start. Good day 
Mr. Magnolia. (Exeunt Simon and Angelina.) 

MR. M. Good bye, good bye. There, they are off. 
1 am always glad to despatch business— one feels so com- 
fortable after it. Now they are tripping it off to the cars 
and now the cars will be tripping them off to Harlem.— 
Then they will be tripping it over the fields, and their 
tripping little tongues will be tripping over every thing 
and I dare swear their big little hearts will be tripping 
with love, tol de riddle de dido. Well, I'll trip it off to 
market, after the eatables and other like little necessary 
articles that cannot very well be done without in a board- 
ing house. Eh! day, bless me. Dear! O dear! 

(ENTER MRS. MAGNOLIA.) 

here is the old woman herself. 

MRS. M. What's that you say— the old woman her- 
self, eh? And so I am in propria persona— you illiterate 
unbelettered ignoramus, that was not ever put through 
your Latin grammar as you should have been, and would 
have been, had I but been your father— had 1 been your 
father, I would have been the making of you, Mr. Mag- 
nolia, I would— but among my many other misfortunes 
tis mine to be your wife, the mistress of this house in 
which you can indulge and enjoy your otium cum digni- 
tate, and I, Mistress Magnolia, must do the drudgery and 
keep matters in a proper train. Had I but have been the 
man and you the wife, how much better it might have 
been for us both, wouldn't it, my love, eh? But where is 
it you are going? Where are you going now? 

MR. xM. To market, my dear. 

MRS M. To market, eh! That's right, Jonathan; 
that s right, love; and if you see any green pease, and a 
nice piece of lamb, bring them home, and a turkey, and 
some oysters for sauce, and some chickens to frickasse. 
But you know very well what to get, so go along, Jona- 
than, go along, tempus fugit. 

M R - M - Tempus fugit! What is that, my dear? Well, 
well, I'll away and do my endeavors to please you; but 



18 simont solus; or, 

then you know, wife, that that is a very difficult — a very 
hard matter; you are never satisfied. 

MRS. M. Never satisfied! you graceless, good-for- 
nothing, illiterate, outrageous, vile, contumacious, ob- 
streperous man. Here have I kept the house over your 
head these three and forty years; provided for all your 
boarders; tasted all your wines and liquors before pur- 
chase; seen after the plate and furniture; and brought up 
your daughter, and had her educated to sing and to dance, 
and to talk with any woman in town, — even almost as 
fluently as 1 do myself. 

MR. M. Go on, wife, do go on, my dear. You have 
taught her to talk, indeed, at almost as pretty a rate as 
you do yourself. Kept the house over my head, indeed! 
Did it not belong to me before the awful day we were 
solemnly tied together? Look after the plate and furni- 
ture, indeed! Do not I always have to be buying new? 
Dear! oh dear! you'll break my heart, you will! 

MRS. M. Why do you not be off? You will be too 
late to market — dinner will be too late to be cooked — 
tempus fugit ergo — every thing will be too late. Nothing 
but goes behind hand since this new boarder — this Simon 
Solus — came to the house. Why are you not off? — don't 
you hear me? — why are you not off, I say? 

MR. M. I will I will, but when I come back if you 
are not in better humor I shall certainly take the neces- 
sary measures for a separation of our persons, I certainly 
shall. (Exit.) 

MRS. M. (Solus.) A separation of our persons? was 
there ever such a living man! a separation of our persons, 
after we have lived 3 and 40 years together. A separation 
of our persons, Jemeni! What will he do with Angelina. 
Had I have had a boy and a girl, instead of only, an only 
daughter, he should have taken the brat of a boy and An- 
gelina should be mine own. But come what may she 
shall abide with me — he may leave my bed and board and 
betake himself to the Green Mountains, to Iceland or the 
Red Sea, if so inclined, and no writ of habeas corpus will 
I ever have served on him — Betty — you jade, Betty I say, 
come hither you hussy. 

(enter bettt.) 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 19 

What in the world have you been about so long — tell me 
you jade — speak you baggage. 

BETTY. Why ma'am I've been looking after 

MRS. MAG. Been looking after, — looking after, you 
are always looking after, you need looking after, being 
looked after, you do, you slut you do; you'll be looking after 
a husband one of these days I'll be bound. You had better 
be looking after putting things to rights. Your master 
will be back from market presently in proper bad humor. 
He left the house just now in such a rage, and talked of 
going to separate from me. 

BETTY. Misses you really do scold him too exten- 
sively at times. I often wonder how he can stand it. I 

am quite sure if I were him 

MRS. M. Hold your tongue you hussy — silence you 
spynx— leave the room you baggage — you catamount— 
dont let me see the sight of that impudent face of yours 
for a month to come; out of my sight, out, out, I say, you 
piece of personified insolence: out, out, I say. 

BETTY. Oh dear, oh dear, lack-a-daisy me. (Exit.) 
MRS. M. Heigho, wheugh: what shall I do, I declare. 
I am almost out of breath. Here will my old man be 
back from market soon, out of sorts with himself, with me, 
with every thing. I'll be hanged if I dont try and bring 
him round — nil desperandum. He is as good an old man 
as any other spirited woman has in town. I wouldn't 
change him for any dozen or twenty common husbands in 
a year's acquaintance: I'll run and mix him an extensive 
brandy toddy, and that I know will make him pleased aa 
punch again- (Exit.) 



SCENE IV.— A Street. 

(ENTER TOM CUTWATER AND NED CLEWLINE.) 

TOM. What say you Ned to make a trip up to the 
lakes. Blow'd if I ain't tired of these cursed streets and 
houses, rogues, crimps, and land lords;— they are done 
m3 out of more than $100 dollars already, and all the shot 
left in my locker wont hold me out much longer if I dont 
steer a course in land. Ned, what say you to make 
4 



20 simon solus; or, 

tracks. Let's try a canal boat; you go captain and make 
me cook — or, dam me, Ned, jump aboard purser and take 
me for steward. The cyphering for you I'll do prime. — 
At arithmatizing I'm a pretty smart hand, at least I was 
when at school some ten years ago: I can work the double 
rule of five and go extraction to Jericho. Extensively so, 
I may say in the spirit line. 

NED. Avast there, Cutwater, belay that, Tom: you're 
ahead of yourself a fathom. You could subtract well no 
doubt, and add like Mercury when it suited your turn; a 
damn'd poor business it would be for me though! 

TOM. How so, Clewline? 

NED. How so? why plain enough, or Ned Clewline 
knows nothing of dead reckoning. I don't understand fi- 
guring as well maybe as you, Tom, but here's my cyph- 
ering: 1st as you go steward, you should do all the busi- 
ness, blow'd if I'd be in that billet and trouble my head 
with calculations and writing; of course I should hand 
over to Tom Cutwater half the profits. Then, you know, 
Tom, by your long practice in the rules of substraction 
you would do me out of t'other half, and that would leave 
Ned Clewline a deuced good whack at the end of the 
cruize. No, no, I know you too well, Tom. You'd be 
happy in old Nick's guardo, the whole of the first fortnight, 
after you were whipped in, if you could only chuckle over 
having done a purser out of his three years' pilings up. 

TOM. Well, but what say you Ned, shall we leave the 
town, and take canal or rail road for the backlands and 
graze a month or two on fresh fodder among the lusty 
milk gals and farming wenches; what say you Clewline? 

NED. Agreed, say I, better that than worse; but I say, 
Tom, shiver my hull if Simon Solus ant bearing down 
with all sail set. 

(enter SIMON.) 

Which way, Simon, just from Harlem, eh? shipmate? 

SIMON. Well I reckon I are, and a right nice ride 
we had: I amagine there arn't nothing can come up to 
riding by steam except it are, may be, the leetle Dale 
agoing afore a hurricane on a taut bowline, with her stun 
sails on both her sides, and all her light sails set and kites 
a flyin': I guess as how it would take a right smart chance 
of a fine engine machine to catch up the leetle Dale then? 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 21 

Nothin' on airth can do her a circumstance, and darn'd if I 
don't imagine she'd soon get out of sight of one on them 
ar new invention steam air carriage balloons, though they 
be a mighty scrumptious kind of a contrivance. 

TOM. Why the devil don't you clap a stopper on that 
red rag of yours. Simon, did you ever know the Dale to 
have studding sails set low and aloft larboard and star- 
board, when close hawl'd on a wind, or every rag set and 
a hurricane a blowing? 

SIMON. I wont be quite sartin as how it was blowing 
so mighty savage; but there must have been a pretty con- 
siderable smart chance of a breeze, as Backstay the quar- 
ter-master, told me himself as how she was sleeking it off 
fifteen knots, and mout have gone sixteen easy as nothing 
only the line run out so tarnation fast he could'nt parwent 
it's runnin' off the reel. 

NED. You'd make oath to it, no doubt. But Simon, 
the night we had such dam'd squally, nasty, murky weather 
off that infernal Cape,— Cape Horn— you were on deck, I 
suppose. 

SIMON. Well, I rec'on as how I were. You mout 
have found me in the starboard slings of the larboard- 
main, weather-mizen, top-gallant, sky-sail, mast-yard-arm, 
and the way that I worried myself bringing the bunt-tric- 
ing line to bear on the arter part of the weather leech, 
warn't no body's business; besides handling the bunt jig- 
gers and hawlin' in on the backstay shrowds, so as to help 
my shipmates what were rigging out the earin' blocks. It 
were tarnation ugly work, as the yards every time, we ha 
imagined we'd finished, would souse into the waves and 
splash us all over. But, by golly, I calculate as how we 
made a nation sleek job on it, tho' it war so mighty dark 
we could't find our way down the skysail yard-arm bunt- 
lines without holdin' on to one another's hands, and I guess 
as we did sweat a heap, though it war so nation cold. 

TOM. Ned, did you ever hear such a fool? why Simon 
don't try to gammon us You don't take us for cow boy 
or green horns, do you? You jump aloft. Shiver my hull 
if I don't believe you were diving into some manavelins o 
laying too at the galley under the lee of a pan of dunder- 
funk. 

NED. Why damn it, Simon, you don't intend to try next 



22 simon solus; or, 

and make us believe the sloop-of-war Dale to be bigger 
than any other sloop of her size, do you? 

SIMON. Darn'd if she arn't tho', by golly, and it arn't 
a mighty hard matter to prove, I calculate. I swan to man 
if I only knew as much about figuring up as the sailing 
master, I'd get a slate and pencil and work out the sum. 
Jist take three-fifths on her beam from her length, 
and multiply by her breadth and depth, and divide by 
ninety-five or something: — I won't be right sartin' as that's 
it. But howsomever, by the way, its calculated a school- 
master could make her out somethin' less than 900 tons: 
now the register in print shows she's not one thousand, and 
darned to darnation if she wont carry a tarnal site more 
than that are, when all her light sails are set and kites are 
flyin', or Simon Solus arnt nothing at guessing to what he 
war aboard ship. But come along to my boarding house, 
and I guess as how we'll have somethin' nation nice to 
drink. 

TOM. What say, Ned? let's see this boarding house 
and the pretty girl he's after. He'll pay our footing and 
stand the blunt, I know. 

NED. With all my heart, Cutwater, and as for stand- 
ing treat there are many worse coves than Simon Solus 
for that; many a glass of pisco and bottle of rum have he 
and I used up while together in the Pacific. 

SIMON. I imagine you will not be disappointed, and 
should you take the notion, I calculate you and Tom can 
find accommodations and have your bags and hammocks 
brought to the house,where there's as good livin' as I rec'on 
is any whars else, and a most scrumptious fine article on 
cider. (Exeunt.) 



SCENE IV.— A Room. 

ANGELINA. (Solus.) What a delightful out we had, 
to be sure. I declare I did not think a ride in the cars to 
Harlem would have afforded so much pleasure. I really 
feel like a new creature. I can now sing and play and 
dance, if Pa desires me, till he shall fairly cry quits. Mr. 
Simon is somewhat queer, but I really am quite in love 
with him. He has some rather odd notions, but I like the 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 23 

very oddity of them. If Pa consents and Mr. Simon per- 
sists in it, I am sure I shall not be very backward in ac- 
cepting of him for a husband. How glad I am that he 
was induced by me to buy a lottery ticket. Should it but 
draw a prize what a happy girl I should be. I made him 
give it me to take care of, and I will just walk out and as- 
certain if the drawn numbers are yet known. 

MRS. M. (Calling without.) Angelina, you Angelina 
Magnolia, I say, don't you hear your mother calling you, 
or must I come and hurry your steps. 

ANG. There, I declare, if Mamma is not wanting me 
already. A plague on that tongue of her's, there is no 
such thing as bearing it. 

MRS. M. (Without.) Angelina, you Miss Angelina 
Seminamus Cleopatra Magnolia, I say, do you not hear 
your mother's voice — come hither, I say. 

ANG. Coming — coming directly, Ma, — be with you 
in half a second. Now I lay my life on't she is going to 
rate me well for being too intimate and free with dear Mr. 
Solus, 'tis nothing else I pledge my word for it. (Exit.) 
(enter MR. M.) 

MR. M. Wheugh — dear, oh dear. What a world this 
is, I declare. What a luckless man am I? What a curi- 
ous, loving, affectionate, tender-hearted, caressing piece 
of a wife I have got, to be sure — all rain and hail and sleet 
in a murky, blowy, blustering state one day, and all sun- 
shine, smirks and smiles the next. Now raging about 
every thing, and anon overloading me with kindness, — 
pressing on me to taste her pies, sip her beer, quaff a tum- 
bler of punch or a glass of toddy, or a refreshing mint 
julap. But I declare, here she comes. The plagues of 
Egypt on her. 

(ENTER MRS. MAGNOLIA.) 

Heaven bless you wife — heaven bless you my dear, what 
is it? — what is the matter, my love? 

MRS. MAG. Matter indeed— matter enough to set 
one crazy! Matter indeed, when you have, you headlong 
— head-strong — outrageous man — gone so far with this Mr 
Simon Solus — this person of doubtful name, doubtful 
character, doubtful intentions as to have almost given up 
my daughter Angelina — my daughter Miss Angelina Se- 



24 simon solus; or, 

minamus Cleopatra Magnolia, to a fellow who has not a 
foot of ground to his name, nor money enough to carry 
him through a twelvemonth, you thoughtless, good-for- 
nothing, inconsiderate man. 

MR. M. But then you do not consider 

MRS. MAG. But I do consider, and this business shall 
go no farther. I'll extinguish their languishing desires — 
their ardent flames, I will. I'll quench their amorous fires 
and put a finish to their business, mind that old man, but 
tempus fugit — ergo dispatch is requisite. (Exit.) 

MR. M. Wheugh — well-a-day — well-a-day — what to 
happen next I wonder. 

(enter betty.) 
Well, and what want you, Betty — what do you want, pray? 
BETTY. Here, sir, is Mr. Solus with two gentlemen, 
that he says are his old shipmates; here they are, sir, these 
are they. 

(ENTER SIMON, NED CLEWLINE AND TOM CUTWATER.) 

SIMON. Mr. Magnolia, I tho't kinder as how you 
would have no objections to seeing some on my shipmates, 
so I've just brought two on 'em with me to try a mite of 
your liquor. 

MR. M. Quite welcome, gentlemen, entirely welcome; 
make yourselves quite at home. Do let me run and bring 
you something to wet your whistles with. I shall not be 
long, gentlemen, I will not be long. (Exit.) 

NED. Comfortable establishment, Cutwater. 

TOM. Quite a snug affair, Ned. 

NED. A dam'd site better than our lodgings, Tom. 

TOM. Let's shift our quarters. 

NED. Simon, think you the old man will take us on? 

SIMON. He'll make no objections, I rec'on: tho' I 
guess as how it '11 be kinder harder to come round the old 
woman. The tarnal thing is so tetotaciously obstrop- 
lous. 

TOM. Say you do, Simon, Eh: Ned, dam me if this is 
not the very girl I had the conflab with in the street this 
morning. 

NED. Blow'd if tan't the very same. You did'nt lose 
your money again, darlin', did you? 

BETTY. Oh no, dear sir, I'm so very extensively 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 25 

obliged to you, I declare, sir; to thank you I know not 
how. 

NED. Only give me a kiss, my sparkling jewel. Now 
we are in doors don't be bashful, chicken — (kissing.) 

TOM. Dam me, Ned, but you are having it all to 
yourself, an't you going to share with a shipmate. Come 
here my trump of hearts, I shall not spoil that pretty face 
nor sully one sweet smile. 

BETTY. You good-for-nothing, vile, outrageous, intox- 
icating fellow. I will pay you one way or other for abus- 
ing me as you did this morning; I'll make you drunk or 
something, mind now if I do not. 

(ENTER MR. MAGNOLIA WITH A BOTTLE OF LIQUOR.) 

MR. MAG. Here you are, gentlemen, here you be. 
Some of the best cogniac ever corked in bottle. (Pouring 
into glasses.) Once having tasted you will speak it well I 
dare be sworn. I always keep the best of liquors and wines 
in my cellar. Come, gentlemen, don't stand to parley, taste 
the article and speak of it your opinions. 

NED. Well, old man, here's to you, and may you nev- 
er want for boarders so long as you keep open house. 

TOM. And may your cellar never run dry whilst you 
have any boarders. Come, Simon, give something if it's 
only that the spirit casks may hold out better next cruize 
than they did the last. 

SIMON. Well, shipmates, 1 rec'on as how I'll try and 
'gin somethin', though I never drinks toasts much: may the 
next ships as I sails in go all round the world, through 
the Mediterrarean and touch at China in Egypt, and Con- 
stantinople in India, to fill up her water tanks with gene- 
wine claret cider and muscatel cordial, and then if the 
whiskey casks do happen to leak out we wont be so mouty 
bad off that we mout'nt be a kinder worser. 

NED. I must speak the liquor well — Simon the old 
man's brandy's not so bad, old man I've tasted worse — 
darn seldom has Ned Clewline tasted better. 

TOM. Its a rare article of liquor. 

SIMON. Its real genewine and no mistake. Its tick- 
ling my throat all the way down. 'Tis a right scrump- 
tious article. Darn'd if it arn't pricking my very finger 
ends. 

NED. Old gentleman, how would you like to take a 



26 simon solus; or, 

couple of boarders? Simon can speak a good word for us. 
I like your face, the cut of your jib, old Toby, and I can't 
say that much of every landlord I've lived with. 

TOM. Yes, yes, old boy, (slapping him on the back,) 
this house must be ours for a while, you'll make us a home 
I know. 

MR. M. With all my heart, gentlemen, but I am afraid 
I shall have to consult with my old woman. She settles 
these matters for me. 

NED. Ay, ay, she wears the breeches, does she — well 
let's see the old hag, come 

MR. M. Eh, bless me, dear oh dear, here she comes — 
here 

(ENTER MRS. MAGNOLIA FOLLOWED BY ANGELINA.) 

she is, and her daughter with her. 

ANGELINA. Oh where is he u where is he? O Mr. 
Simon, Mr. Simon, if your lottery ticket has not drawn a 
prize of ten thousand dollars. Mamma is so delighted. 

SIMON. Huzza — well I swan to man — (dances about) 
darn my buttons if I must'nt have a kiss, (kisses her.) 

MRS. MAG. Gentlemen, how do you all do? Going 
to board with us I hope. I do feel so gratified to see any 
of Mr. Simon Solus' friends. I hardly know how to en- 
tertain them. Why, Mr. Magnolia, my dear husband, do 
my love go and get these gentlemen something to drink 
Mr Solus, my daughter here has been so longing to see 
you. When you are absent an hour she counts it a week. 
You have no idea — you have no conception, dear Mr. Si- 
mon — you have no conception, how fondly she talks all the 
live long day about nothing and no body but you. How 
glad, how happy, how delighted shall I be truly, only to 
see you two once united in the happy bands of wedlock; 
bound to one another for life in the delightful bonds of 
matrimony for a long happy life, as me and my dearly be- 
loved spouse, Mr. Magnolia, have been the past three and 
fourty years- O, what delightful days and nights — what 
blissful, rapturous hours you have in the vista of life. But 
tempus fugit — ergo, I must hie me to the dining-room and 
see that a supper for you is procurandum est. Mr. Mag- 
nolia, do you entertain our friends. The meanwhile — my 
service to you, gentlemen, for the present. 

MR. M. (Jlside.) What a wonder's this — only yes- 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 27 

terday she would have scratched his face and turned him 
out of doors. O the magic power of glittering gold. But, 
Mr. Simon, you must allow me to congratulate you on 
your good fortunes. 

NED. Who in the name of Mars would ever have be- 
lieved you would be such a lucky dog. 

TOM. Ten thousand dollars! What a glorious spree 
you can have Simon. Ten thousand dollars — why damn 
my tarry top lights if I had half that sum, I'd buy a brig, 
or start a mill, or marry a rich, pretty girl. But where 
the devil will you stow your cargo, Simon. 

SIMON. I imagine that are is not going to be a tar- 
nation ugly job. I always calculated on raising the wind 
some how or nother, and I arn't fur out on't this time, I 
guess. Angelina, shan't we take another ride out to Har- 
lem. You're so fond of riding. It's a nation pretty place 
that, to get spliced in, and I rec'on as how the old man 
arn't going to keep back his consent, now the old woman 
has given her's. 

ANG. If Pa gives his consent, now I know you will, 
won't you, Pa? Simon, you have, you know, already made 
sure of mine. Come, Pa, give me a kiss — (kisses her.) 
Well now, why don't you give your assent — but you are 
waxing old — you are getting old, Pa. 

MR. MAG. Mr. Simon, you have my hearty acqui- 
escence to your union, — may you make the happiest cou- 
ple alive, and may your children and grand-children be 
the delight of your lives when I shall be 

NED. In Heaven, old boy. But give me leave to ask 
a favor, — if the hand of this pretty little bashful rogue is 
in your keeping, can I hope to have it of you. 

MR. M. Sir, she has the whole disposal of that, as 
well as of her person. If you have insured her heart you 
may make sure of her hand; if you have got the one you 
need not doubt of obtaining the other. 

NED. What say you, my pretty little half eagle, wont 
you make my better half for life? That smile, that blush 
says yes you will. Let's seal the bargain — (kisses her.) 
How now, Cutwater — what say you, Tom? do you 'prove 
proceedings on pipe b'lay; why shiver my hull if you 
hav'nt a face on as long as a Portmahone jackass. 

TOM. Blow'd if I know what to say, but let's board 



28 simon solus; or, 

here a week or two, and then I'll have had time to haul 
my thinking tacks aboard, and may be will have the luck 
to find a girl I'd like to join jiblets with myself, (taking 
glass.) But here's a health to both your smiling wenches 
— may your married years be as happy as your honey- 
moon nights — your children numerous — and your old days 
merry ones. 

ANG-. Simon, you must thank me for the prize: you 
know what coaxing work I had to make you buy the tick- 
et just before the cars started for Harlem. 

MR. M. Did you, my dear angel. Mr. Simon, you see 
what a speculating turn my daughter has. Keep a taut 
rein over her at first and you may easily manage her, you 
may readily manage her, Mr. Solus. 

SIMON. The tarnal critter, but you may leave Simon 
alone for that, Mr. Magnolia. I calculate as how 1 am 
a right sleek hand at such are kind of business. At old 
uncle Josh's, cousin Sail war always for having her own 
way. Well, one on them ar days cousin Sail and I went 
out huckleberryin' in the woods: as I was a sayin' she war 
always for havin' her own way. At first off she seemed 
mighty pleased and nation glad as I were 'long. But 
when I began to cross her a leetle and try to make her do 
just as what I liked, she riz her dander and got right tar- 
nal contumacious and took her own course through the 
woods. Cousin Sail rec'oned as how I was arter her, and 
would try and coax her round But I guess I know'd a 
darn'd site better. I streeked it right strait back hum. — 
From that day ever sinc't, cousin will do just any thing I 
wants her tu, I guess. So if we two don't pull together 
till we get through the huckleberryin' time of man and 
wife, I'll go right straight and make another cruize in the 
sleek leetle, fast-sailing, hard-fighting sloop-of-war Dale, 
and arter that I guess as how it '11 be a mighty hard mat- 
ter coaxing Angelina to fall out with Simon Solus again. 

MR. M. Ah, Simon, you're a rum 'un. But now as 
business seems to be pretty well settled, and the old wo- 
man has by this got supper ready, let's to the dining- 
room and refresh ourselves on whatever good things my 
house will afford. 

ANG. Why in the name of Herschel are you in 
such haste. But you are waxing old — you are getting old, 



JUST PAID OFF FROM THE DALE. 



29 



Pa. To-morrow, Simon, I want you to buy me a pretty, 
fast trotting horse, and a neat little buggy for us to ride 
out in; and we must go to housekeeping next week. Si- 
mon, why in the name of the poets don't you invite our 
friends to see us. 

SIMON. Well, chicken, I guess as how I'll buy you a 
horse and a buggy and take you out a riding. Arter we 
are married we'll have a heap of riding, 1 rec'on, and as 
Mrs. Simon Solus is going straight to house keeping she'll 
be mighty glad to have all on you pay her a weddin' visit 
and taste a mite of cider or somethin' or nother right 
scrumptious. . 

MR. M. And as in coursing time our nights we spend, 
We hope you will us countenance still lend, 
And may all you who that way are inclined, 
Find to your taste some beauteous fair refined, 
In whom graces and virtues are alike combined. 



SONG. 

The following was sung at the last evening's Theatrical 
entertainment on board at Valparaiso, by one of the Dale's 
main-top-men, during which he was much clapped. 



How pleas'd dis nigger be, 

To see you all so smilin', 
Long time we's been away, 

The leetle Dale a tryin': 
We left Coquimbo bay, 

In August last, I b'lieve sir, 
And sailing wid de fleet, 

Into Calyow we came sir. 

Ching a ring come chaw, 
High oh lin kum darkee. 



From dere we took a start, 

Not knowing what place for sir, 
And 'fore long had to part 

Wid de Cyane and de States sir, 
Our lonesome track we made, 

For de city of Pan'ma sir, 
Beating ebry ting we met, 

But no sailing ships we found sir, 

Ching a ring, &c. 
in. 

At Taboga we made stay, 

It is de bery isle sir, 
Where piums and cocoanuts, 

And 'bundance fruit is found sir, 
Dere's a gub'nor in dat place, 

What gibs dem all dere laws sir, 
And regulates dere tings, 

At least he stops dere jaws sir. 

Ching a ring, &c. 



31 



Dere a nation happy set, 

Dey pass dere time so pleasant, 
Eatin oranges and nuts, 

Chickens, wild ducks, and pheasant. 
To strangers dey are kind, 

Wid all folks dere so free sir, 
None but de bery debil, 

Wid dem could disagree sir. 

Ching a ring, &c. 
v. 

Dere women are obliging, 

Dey'll do just as you say sir, 
And cause dey are so kind, 

One gibs dem dere own way sir, 
Your clothes dey'll all wash clean, 

And milk fotch to your ship sir, 
Ask dem for what you like, 

Dey neber gib you lip sir. 

Ching a ring, ke. 

VI. 

One sweet gall dere I left, 

Ob charming face and figure, 
What captured de whole heart 

Ob dis deluded nigger. 
I guv'd her all I could, 

I left her trifles plenty, 
She was de lubly one, 

What did my pockets empty. 

Ching a ring, &c. 

VII. 

From dat enchanting isle, 

And Pan'ma we did steer sir, 
But de winds did come so bad, 

'Twas hard our port to near sir: 
For long time we had rain, 

Wat fill'd us up wid water, 
But for some tings we found, 

We'd be press'd leetle harder* 

Ching a ring. Stc. 



IMMIMIIMIIMIINMIMI 

32 song. o 016 102 691 8 



De ting what plagu'd us most, 

And caused our hearts to sigh sir, 
Our ship run out of rum, 

Which made us all feel dry sir; 
But when we found 'twas true, 

We tried to be contented, 
'Cause whiskey could'nt rain, 

So it could'nt be prevented. 

Ching a ring, &c. 

IX. 

In port as soon as anchor 'd, 

De critter was obtained sir, 
And tasted monstrous good, 

'Cause we'd so long refrained sir, 
In Monterey we sported, 

And blow'd her out so high sir, 
Dat to see de place again, 

Our hearts do sometimes sigh sir. 

Ching a ring, &c. 
x. 

But all 'bout Monterey, 

And oder charming cities, 
Yhnas and Mazaltan, 

Some day we'll sing you ditties: 
Dere all worth tellin' on, 

And singing odes consamin, 
Dere ladies and dere sports, 

And some tings great, worth larnin'. 

Ching a ring, &c. 

XI. 

Now we are onc't more here, 

We feel most mighty glad, 
To see you all assembled, 

Not one face looking sad; 
To please you wid a play, 

Our parts we thought we'd try, sir, 
As we want de "Dale" to sweeten 

Her friends and enemies high sir. 

Ching a ring, &c. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



016 102 691 8 



